


Warmth of the Fires

by i_write_a_lot



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Cold, Cooking, F/M, Fires, Fluff, Gen, Holiday, Other - Freeform, Stoves, Thanksgiving, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_a_lot/pseuds/i_write_a_lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief scene in the Fiery Cross during Thanksgiving. Claire thinks about home and missing her kitchen where it was easier to cook food and provide much needed warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth of the Fires

**Author's Note:**

> -I do not own Outlander or any of its characters. This was written purely for my own amusement, though I tried to keep as close to the story as much as possible. It's all told in Claire's POV. It's a brief scene from "The Fiery Cross" that I thought up. Comments and Kudos much appreciated!
> 
> -This story remains unbeta'd, so all spelling errors and mistakes are mine. 
> 
> -Happy late Thanksgiving everyone! :)

The candles were glowing softly on the table, even as Jamie was coming in out of the cold. Snow had already settled on the ground around us, and the temperature outside was freezing to the point of ridiculousness. I was wrapped in my best warm clothes, even as the fireplace was going full tilt as was the wood stove, where hot water was waiting for whoever needed to use it. 

“Warmth,” Jamie said with a faint sigh as he settled into the chair. He’d been out taking care of the firewood, even as I was taking care of the thanksgiving dinner that was coming up. “Thank god.” He added, with a smile. 

“Mmphm,” I responded, even as I was moving to check the bread. It seemed like it was rising, but it was also taking its sweet time. Probably because there wasn’t enough heat in the house, despite all the fires going as much as possible. “Fresh bread in, oh, half an hour. If it still manages to rise by that point.” I told him cheerfully. 

Despite the vicious cold that went on outside, it was still nice to be with family. My daughter, Bree, was currently in her room working on writing. The other members of the household were either in their respectively warm beds (where I currently wished to be) or helping out with chores outside, those that could manage the cold long enough to help. Jamie had been assisted by Ian, as well as Rodger and a couple of the other men from the homes nearby, in promise of freshly caught rabbits and whatever else they’d managed to barter with. Of course, that meant I would have to cook them, but at the moment I didn’t much care. 

“Anything else besides bread cooking? Not that I’m complaining, mind,” Jamie added hastily at seeing my narrowed eyes. I decided to let it go, because Jamie and the boys were always starving. I could’ve made enough for an army of fifty men, and I was betting that Jamie, Ian, and Rodger could eat all of it in one sitting and still beg for more. 

“There’s some things in the works-there’s cold meats on the table, though I can heat them up if you want. I’m also making a fresh batch of tea, as well as cooking corn on the cob, and beans. I’ve been thinking about making some pumpkin pie and cheesecake, but those are a bit harder to do.” I said ruefully. Sometimes, the thing I missed most about my own time period, was the kitchen. 

“Mum! Have you seen my scarf?” Bree asked, coming into the room then. “I thought I’d placed it here in the kitchen, but I looked earlier…”

“Oh, ah, I borrowed it.” Jamie said, looking uncomfortablely guilty. “I hope ye don’t mind…”

“Not at all,” Bree said with a grin. “So long as you didn’t sweat all over it.”

Jamie spluttered indigantly even as I laughed out loud while Bree accepted the scarf back. 

“Hey, mum. I was talking with Mrs. Grendal earlier-she’s one of the new arrivals, you know? And she was talking about helping out with the kitchen details, knowing how you be ‘missus of the house’ and all that,” Bree said, mimicking the older ladies speech. “She also says that if you be wanting to cook some pecan pie, she has an extra stove that you may have, provided that you bake her at least five loathes of bread for her own large family.”

“Deal,” I said promptly. It could never hurt to have too many stoves. “But is she sure?” I asked, hesitantly. Stoves were an important part of the household. Not only did they provide food, but they also provided warmth, and with it being as cold as it was…

“She says that they’ve already got seven stoves, one in almost every room of the house.” Bree said with envy. I echoed that envy. It must be awfully warm inside that house of theirs. 

“So she was thinking of giving us the spare stove, in exchange for food during the holidays. She has plenty of stoves, but she can’t tend to them all by herself, and she’s the best cook, so…”

“So she wants to give me the stove to help her cook not just for us but for herself as well,” I finished, nodding. “That makes more sense, then. And yes, we’ll take the stove. We can definitely use more warmth here in this household. We can likely put the stove in one of the back rooms, to warm up that side of the house.” I said thoughtfully. 

The door opened, sending in a chilling breeze, and then shut hastily as Rodger pushed it behind him, Ian and his dog both coming in at the same time. The dog shook himself by the door, came over to the woodstove that was still cooking the bread, and settled to lay down in front of it, giving a long heavy sigh of relief. Ian and Rodger both managed to get to the table, looking rather alarmingly blue. 

“Here,” I said, pushing two cups of hot tea at them, as well as some of the meats that I’d warmed up briefly. “Get something hot in you, before you freeze.” I ordered. 

“Thank god for fires,” Ian said, shivering as he took a big gulp of tea, Rodger doing the same. Jamie did as well, though he already looked much better. “It’s getting right nasty out there, Auntie. You’re lucky you’re not a man, because then you’d be out there helping us all.” Ian said, grinning at me. I rolled my eyes. 

“Mrs. Grendal is giving us another stove, so it’ll soon be even warmer inside the house.” Bree said cheerfully. 

Ian beamed. 

“Thank god for Mrs. Grendal too!” He said, and Bree giggled, even as Rodger was working to get himself another cup of hot tea, having rapidly finished the first. 

“Is it really true that you had heat all through winter back in the time you came from?” Jamie asked me, suddenly, taking me by surprise. 

“Er…yes, it’s true. It’s a bit difficult to explain how it works,” I said, frowning. “Picture some vents around the ceiling that produce hot air, as much as you want, and you can control the heat through a…a remote on the wall.”

Jamie and Ian both looked impressed while Bree and Rodger both looked wistful. 

“What I wouldn’t give for one of those right about now,” Rodger said, munching on the fresh bread that I had only just put on the table. He didn’t even bother reaching for the butter, instead he was more interested in eating hot bread and drinking hot tea. Bree snuggled up against him, and Rodger wrapped one arm around her, bringing her closer. 

They really did make a lovely couple, I thought with amusement. 

“Aunt, do you think we could replicate something like that?” Ian asked, interestedly. I considered. 

“Perhaps,” I said, thoughtfully as I munched on a piece of freshly baked bread. It tasted rather good, if I do say so myself. Of course, I was already starting on another couple of loaves, as well as the stew over the fire, and not to mention the pork and beans, carrots, and corn on the cob. There was going to be a big meal, due to the number of people that were going to be eating with us. Jamie, myself, Bree, Rodger, Ian (and Ian’s dog), the guests that were currently staying with us which were the four boys and their mother, and finally whatever stragglers came over for dinner to talk with Jamie about business.

It was likely to be a full house!

And already the three boys and Bree were scarfing the first loaf of bread which was just about gone. I’d have to figure out something else to tide them over until dinner was properly ready…

“Sassenach,” Jamie said quietly at my side. I was so busy thinking of dinner, that I hadn’t heard him approach me, nor Rodger and Bree and Ian leave. The dog remained next to the stove, blissfully passed out. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked, startled. As far as I knew, he’d not done anything wrong of late to warrant an apology. 

“I’m sorry for you not having your kitchen. Bree told me how much you loved to cook, and you’d always been a fair hand at it,” Jamie explained, wrapping himself around me from behind, as I was fixing the bread over the stove so that it may properly rise. 

“Ah, I do miss it.” I admitted, biting my lower lip as I turned around to face Jamie. “But…as much as I miss the kitchen, the heat-and my god, the dishwasher,” I said, with a heavy sigh even as Jamie laughed. “I’d miss you more.” 

He quieted, and smiled, pressing a kiss to me, and then pulled away. 

“Well, then…” He said with a grin. “How about some more bread, so that I’s not starve and then you’d miss me anyway?”

I whacked him on the arm, and he laughed out loud, even as I set to making another loaf of bread. 

Happy Thanksgiving indeed, I thought with a wide smile. 

~*~  
End


End file.
